


Beneath holy skies

by secrets_i_cant_reveal



Series: The chronicles of lovemaking [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Grinding, M/M, Making Love, Rutting, chronicles of lovemaking, humping, lovemaking, moaning dean, yup that's a new tag!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 15:13:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4965817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secrets_i_cant_reveal/pseuds/secrets_i_cant_reveal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean was drunk enough, he could be man enough to admit hat really, it was about one thing, and one thing only, a certain elusive feeling called love. About making love. About being made love to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beneath holy skies

**Author's Note:**

> Before I begin I must admit that sex fascinates me, Supernatural is the obsession which drives me into the ground, and I adore Dean and Castiel, which is why I'm writing this. I also perceive sex and lovemaking to be two very different things, in the sense that sex can sometimes be casual and not always between people who are head-over-heels in love with each other, but in my head, people who are in love or at least, have a deep meaningful connect with each other make love, even if its not always always long-drawn out or romantic.  
> I'll try to have a basic plot to these stories but mostly, I want to focus on the sensations, on certain feelings, and on the thoughts that go unsaid or are uttered only during the heat of intercourse. I have no intention of incorporating any kinks in these stories, as I have taken it upon myself as a challenge to write something that will be mind-blowing and sexy without being dirty (well, not too dirty ;)). I will be overjoyed if you can tell me if I have succeeded at this or not.  
> Any prompts you have are most welcome. I would be honoured to be the one to give words to your ideas, to formulate something tangible out of just the wisp of an fantasy, so feel free.

   It wasn't always like this. Most nights, Dean would close his eyes and just wish, that things would be different.

   Hunting was in his blood. Protecting his family was his duty. Protecting the common people, most of whom would never know of his existence or care for his demise was his fate since his birth, and he was okay with it. Over the years he realised that he had things that lesser humans had neglected and were so much worse without them: a brother who would lay his life down for him, a legacy soaked not in the blood of innocents, but of those who had dared to harm them, knowledge of creatures and truths and phenomenon beyond the scope of human understanding, a key to the mysteries of the three worlds, and counting.

   And, _how could he forget_ , an angel on his speed-dial.

   So, he didn't hate his existence, his responsibilities, the perks and the shitstorms that came with it. Only sometimes, often, he hated being lonely. Dean was not a man who functioned well on his own; it was proven by the way he had followed his father around and then clung to his brother when they were reunited. It was understood that, even in matters of the heart, although admittedly he did not indulge in those too often, he wanted someone who would hang around after the fun times were over.

   It wasn't about the body, about soft skin and a toned physique and killer moves in bed, it wasn't about technique or performance. When Dean was drunk enough to cause worry, he could admit to himself that it was about soul. About strength, to handle the truth which Dean could utter to willing ears and sometimes manhandle Dean to make a point when he was being stubborn and destructive. It was about recklessness, and arrogance, to break down the walls and overstep the boundaries that Dean had laid all around himself so that what was out could not enter, and the beast that was inside would not be set loose. When Dean was drunk enough, he could be man enough to admit hat really, it was about one thing, and one thing only, a certain elusive feeling called love. About making love. About being made love to.

   Sam was having a terrible influence on him, if such girly thoughts were any indication.

   When Castiel came into his life through a blaze of shattered lights and sounds of thunder, he knew this is what it felt like to be swept off one's feet, thought he was too full of questions about this new guy and the role he played in his resurrection to realise that.

   It had taken years of battles, of betrayal, of denial, of role-reversals, and of secrets and the inevitable fallouts due to them that he realised one thing: If there was ever a man for Dean Winchester, it was this fury they called Cas.

   And just when Dean had readied himself for more clueless and obtuse behaviour and adorable head tilts from this angel, now ex-angel, which would result in enough UST to last them a decade, one night Dean had entered his room to find the angel sitting on his bed, wearing his plain clothes for the night, his suit and trench coat hanging inside his open closet, his shoes next to the door, and an expression on his face that simply dared Dean to question his presence here in the dead of the night.

   Dean did not want to go to hell again, especially not after finding his heart's desire sitting before him like this.  

So he had done the safer thing, and kissed the hell out of Castiel.  
Even though Sam was exploiting his younger brother privileges to the fullest with snarks and remarks and comments in a sing-song voice about how they were doing it, the truth was that they were not. Not at first anyway. It was too soon, the paradigm shift in their relationship too fresh to simply jump into sex without thinking. They took it slow, high-school, note-passing chaste couple slow.  
It was just kisses in the beginning. Shy kisses at first, before they fell asleep, first thing in the morning. Then impromptu ones, when Cas was unintentionally hilarious or Dean was just shooting off bad pick-up lines one after the other to entertain Cas. Relieved kisses, after a hunt-almost-gone-wrong or after screw-ups and mishaps that just hit a little too close home. Kisses so full of gratitude and love that Dean sometimes forgot to breathe.  
It was Cas who finally snapped. One night, cuddling lazily in bed, when he whispered, "Touch me, Dean."  
Dean breathed out, "Where?"  
"Everywhere."  
And suddenly they were everywhere, and went at it everywhere, in their shared bedroom, in the kitchen under the pretext of doing the dishes after Sammy had fallen asleep, in the backseat of the Impala after a late-night date in the nearby woods, and during one memorable escapade, on the hood of the Impala, Cas pitching and moaning beneath Dean as he thrust purposefully inside of him.  
Which brought them to now, Dean sprawled on his front in bed, sleepy and tired, Castiel walking his fingers down his curved back. The skin was sticky due to sweat and the humidity and Castiel dearly wanted a taste, so he flicked his tongue out and at the skin which glistened, tantalizing, in the pale moonlight. Dean hummed, breathed out slow, then muttered, "More."  
Castiel rose behind Dean and draped himself over him, touching at all points, Castiel's forehead pressed to the crown of Dean's hair, sweaty chest pressed to his naked back, Dean's thighs framing Castiel's as he ground down on the plush curve of Dean's ass and Dean moaned, biting his lip to keep it down.  
"Cas, please, wanna come..." Castiel felt Dean's desperation, so he would an arm around Dean's waist, circling him, holding him close, as he thumbed over his pert nipples and the softly etched lines of his muscles, before teasing his navel and his hips, even as Dean began to rock his body sinuously against Castiel's hard length, making the most delectable sounds of need. He pushed his hand suddenly inside Dean's boxers, cupping over his hard, leaking cock.  
"Can you come for me like this, Dean? Come from me rubbing you and grinding against you?" Castiel breathed, shaking himself due to arousal.  
"Yes, Cas, oh..." Dean whimpered, letting loose, pumping his hips fully forward and back, thrusting against the hand tenderly cupping his cock, then pushing back against the hot line of Castiel's arousal.  
"Unh, Cas, feels so good, you're so good babe..."  
Castiel, turned on beyond measure, slid down the length of Dean's back to pull the back of his boxers down, revealing two glorious ass cheeks flushed and glistening due to sweat, jiggling due to Dean's effort of humping against Cas. He used a free hand to spread his cheeks and pushed his tongue without warning between them.  
Dean had done this to Cas a few times before but had never been on the receiving end of this, but his shock was quickly overcome by heat and pleasure hurling through his veins as he screamed with pleasure and spread his legs, a little obscenely. "Oh, God, Cas... Anh, yes, yes, yes, fuck just like that babe, lick me more please don't stop..." His face was the picture of ecstasy, panting wet moth hanging open and pink, hair tousled, cheeks with a high flush on them, clenching his eyes shut and crying out in pleasure.  
"I'm gonna, oh Cas I'm gonna, oh, ah, ah, yes, yes, yes, YEESSSS..."  
As Dean shot his load into his boxers, Castiel couldn't help himself. He could feel himself so close to the brink, so close to falling off the edge, so he pushed back up and slotted his engorged member between Dean's firm cheeks, swivelling his hips as he felt closer and closer to orgasm. Dean clenched for him, still hazy from his orgasm, still turned on, making little appreciative sounds as Castiel fucked hard against him. "Yes baby, come for me", Dean whispered, shifting and pushing back for him, "Now babe, now..."  
Castiel caught himself off on a yell as he spurted all over Dean's ass, coating his crack with spunk. They collapsed, boneless, onto the bed, Cas still draped over Dean's sticky back, and when he tried to move, Dean stopped him and said, "You're not that heavy. You can fall asleep on top of me." They smiled and kissed each other, giddy yet sated, and fell asleep, Castiel snuffling gently as he huffed moist breaths against Dean's skin.


End file.
